‘No, not Eris. Even if she helped me until now, I don’t know if she’ll continue to help in the future. She’s the goddess of discord, after all. Discord between Hadeia and me? Absolutely not.’

Call me ungrateful if you want. Eris was an unsettling presence, like a spider crouched in the corner of the ceiling. She proved it just now. 

She built me up by calling me “Your Majesty,” then immediately used me as a weapon to attack Minthe. Nobody can use me as a tool. This had nothing to do with my dislike for Minthe.

Clearly Eris wasn’t acting for my benefit. She moved solely for herself, for the discord and conflict she enjoyed as her prey and source of power. 

A hawk soars through the sky to find the smallest and weakest lamb in the flock. That’s what it was created for. Eris would be no different. 

Her advice had been useful to me only because my actions in that direction gave her some kind of satisfaction. I might not understand it fully, and while there was no conflict between Hadeia and me, perhaps some people around us had differences of opinion. Hmm!

Anyway, I refuse even a fish-scale’s worth of discord attaching itself to me. Especially before something as momentous as marriage! So I resolved to keep my distance from Eris from now on.

After eliminating so many options, what remained was truly embarrassing.

I went to find Morpheus. Finding his dwelling wasn’t difficult, thanks to those famous doors. I entered his mansion through the ivory door. 

I faced what was more of a courtyard than a garden, with modest scenery. There were no landscaping stones or statues at all, just poppies blooming throughout the yard. The red petals rested on thin green stems, swaying even without wind.

Suddenly I thought how nice they would look tucked behind Hadeia’s ear. They would perfectly highlight her black hair and white skin. Or perhaps I could weave them into her hair braids, like Mother and the nymphs did when I was young. 

Back then I was their cute toy, but now I felt excited about adorning the woman I loved. But I couldn’t just pick flowers on my way to meet their owner. I decided I’d ask Morpheus for permission later and continued on my way.

Fortunately, he was in his quarters. He must not have had any errands to run. His study wasn’t large but was well-appointed. 

A considerable number of letters and scrolls were neatly organized, and in the center of the room sat a table with an attractive ornament. A pile of reddish-white fruits rested on a navy blue plate. They looked like small leather balls. 

Perfect for bouncing and playing with. Morpheus, standing at the far end, looked like he’d stepped on a nail when he saw me.

“Morpheus.”

“Honorable son of Demeter.”

Being a god with clear judgment and decorum, he didn’t forget to bow his head respectfully to me. I nodded back in greeting.

“Morpheus, I have something I’d like to discuss.”

“Oh dear.”

He lowered his gaze.

“This gives me déjà vu. You once asked me a difficult question.”

“That’s right. Not long ago.”

“And I was quite troubled by it.”

“But you were right. And you will be this time too.”

“Ah, son of Demeter. You truly put me in a difficult position.”

“I haven’t even asked my question yet.”

I persisted stubbornly.

“Just hear me out. I can’t figure out a good answer on my own.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No!”

I answered immediately, but, well, am I really in such a position? Morpheus is the god of dreams. And me? I’m the son of Demeter. 

I’m not so shameless or stupid that I don’t understand the difference in power and divine aura. But I quickly erased my momentary hesitation.

“Morpheus, does becoming the Queen of the Underworld absolutely require parental permission?”

The eyes of Morpheus, who had been avoiding my gaze all this time, suddenly fixed on me like iron filings drawn to a magnet. If his gaze had been a touch, it would have made a slapping sound. 

What? Did I say something wrong? 

I watched his expression with my lips slightly parted, ready to correct myself if I’d made a mistake.

That’s when Morpheus burst into laughter.

“My goodness, what did you say? Parental permission? Hahaha!”

“Why, why? Is there a problem?”

Seeing this normally composed and dignified god laughing so hard that tears formed at the corners of his eyes made anxiety grow up to my throat. 

I stamped my feet nervously like a frightened chick.

“Is it unnecessary? Or is it so obviously required that my question is ridiculous?”

Despite my urging, Morpheus continued laughing for quite some time. It echoed through the empty room and into the corridor beyond the open door. 

For some reason, not even spirits serving his household were visible in his mansion. That was fortunate for me. 

It would have been quite embarrassing if some chatty servant had come running to ask what was happening, or worse, had been listening from the next room to my foolish words without needing to ask.

“Ah, forgive me!”

He said, his wings trembling.

“It’s the first time in my life I’ve heard such a question. Please don’t take offense.”

“…Was it that foolish?”

My tone wasn’t particularly pleasant since I was already offended. I tried not to appear childish, but my voice when sulking was unmistakably that of a child. 

Nevertheless, I tried to contain my feelings. I still needed Morpheus. If he laughed this hard at my nonsense, it must mean he knew the answer.

“It’s a question no one in the underworld has ever considered. Because no one has ever conceived of the idea of a Queen of the Underworld taking the throne.”

“I suppose… that makes sense.”

The Queen of the Underworld is the wife of the King of the Underworld. The King is Hades. Hades is Hadeia. Hadeia’s wife? 

From my experience, she likes men—specifically young, handsome, passionate blond men—so she wouldn’t take a wife. So naturally, the concept of an Underworld Queen would be as weightless as a ghost.

I nodded in understanding.

“I never thought of the term myself until I heard it from Eris. But anyway… when you marry a king, you become a queen, right? And Hadeia is a king.”

“You mean Lord Hades.”

“Why? Will my father strike lightning if I call her Hadeia?”

Morpheus immediately corrected Hadeia to Hades. I frowned.

“Humans won’t hear us anyway, and everyone in the underworld knows she’s a goddess. Do we still have to call her Hades?”

“Names are important. Especially for gods. Power resides in the names that receive praise and worship. They define one’s power and domain.”

Morpheus responded sternly to my complaint, with no trace of his earlier laughter.

“Don’t you know this yourself? How it felt when everyone called you Persephone, when they adored you as Kore.”

I closed my mouth.

Being Persephone meant I was given no power. Being considered Demeter’s daughter meant I had no duties or rights beyond being beautiful. 

Because of the label “Kore” attached to me, I wasn’t a man until I received the kiss of the Underworld King.

“You know this well, which is why you asked her to call you by a different name. A very manly and splendid name.”

Indeed, he wasn’t someone I could defeat with words. I nodded in acknowledgment.

“Fine. Just answer my question. Is my mother’s permission essential for me to become the Queen of the Underworld?”

“Do you want to become the Queen of the Underworld?”

But Morpheus wouldn’t give me an easy answer. Unlike when Hadeia was suffering from fever. I pouted my lips sulkily.

“I want to marry her. If marrying her means becoming the Queen of the Underworld, then I’ll gladly become queen. But a queen should be dignified and flawlessly perfect. Like Hera is to my father. So I want to know what requirements the underworld demands of a queen.”

“Well…”

He habitually cupped his chin with his hand and moved to the window. The large window overlooking the poppy garden had neither shutters nor curtains.

“Why do you want to become queen? The underworld is far from pleasurable.”

“Because of love.”

“Heroes enjoy many loves. Adventurers mark their paths with lovers like milestones. Weren’t either of these your ideals? Both are professions furthest from being Queen of the Underworld.”

“Oh, stop it. This is a conversation I’ve had a thousand times with Hadei… Hades. Don’t try to persuade me. I’m going to marry her. I wouldn’t hesitate to swear it anywhere. So just answer my question. Don’t confuse me. Does it require my mother’s permission or not? Just yes or no!”

Morpheus sighed, resting his chin on his hand.

“…It doesn’t seem necessary.”

“So it’s not required?”

“You’re clever.”

I knew it! 

I inwardly cheered. Outwardly, I only cleared my throat once briefly. So to Morpheus, I must have appeared like a mature and serious future queen.

“That’s all I needed. There’s nothing standing in my way. Thank you.”

I said with satisfaction, clasping my hands together. I was about to ask if I could pick some of the red and white poppies outside. 

Oh, and I should ask for one of those fruits on the table too. Though they seemed not quite ripe, their roundness was quite pretty. Just having one in my room would lift my spirits.

But Morpheus apparently didn’t intend to end the conversation there.

“You are the son of Demeter.”

I thought we were done with this topic.

“A golden future awaits you outside the underworld that’s unimaginable here. With your excellent bloodline and noble birth, you need only choose whatever power you desire. Yet you say you’ll stay forever in this dark underworld. This is exactly what I feared might happen.”

“…”

“You are spring, and this place is death. Why do you leap into death?”

My heart raced.

I didn’t answer.

But I already knew the answer.

My mother filled my cradle with daffodils and cornflowers instead of daggers and helmets. She called me Persephone before I had the chance to realize there were men in the world besides women, and that I wasn’t a girl. 

My mother’s affection burned me like an eternal flame in a temple. I was powerless before the goddess Demeter. The Moirai’s curse, which I couldn’t remember, made me her slave with invisible shackles.

So, what was it again? What was that terrifying curse that would make someone disguise a boy as a girl and raise him imprisoned in a land with nothing but lush flower petals and short bushes?

Growing into a young man like spring, he shall leap into dark death.

My mother judged that if I grew up as a son and became a young man, I would soon be swept up in the masculine madness of seeking death. 

So she raised me as a daughter, making the world call me a maiden.

But here I am in the underworld!

Morpheus said this place was death. Imagine the thrill I felt at that moment! Ah, the Moirai were right! They made not a curse but a prophecy! 

I was destined to leap into death, the underworld, the realm of the dead. When Hadeia cut through the daffodil field and stole me, from that moment, fate had been turning like a wheel.

I laughed like a madman. I laughed until my throat felt raw with the taste of blood, then collapsed and wept. 

A bundle of poppies fell to the floor, releasing their rich scent. I saw the red fruit rolling cheerfully. Just like my heart.

I had lived for this day.

She was my destiny.